Hope and a Future (eBook)

Chapter 2

FUN AND FAMILY LIFE

THE KIDS HAD ALWAYS BEEN close with us and with one another. Even their birthdays were close. They were all born in September, giving rise to advice from a midwife after our third arrival that in future I should take my wife out on New Year’s Eve.

The family stayed close even though by early 2001 our “babies” had grown up. Wesley was now twenty-three and had gone on from his undergraduate degree in economics to gain a Master’s degree in development studies at the London School of Economics. He was now planning for a year out in Argentina to improve his Spanish and do some practical field work in development.

Wes had always had big dreams and a big heart to go with them. I remember him saying as a young boy, “When I am older I want to make a lot of money and help a lot of poor people.”

James, our second child, had always been a relaxed character who could usually reduce his Mum to laughter, whenever she tried to discipline him, by affecting a look of wounded innocence. But for all his sense of fun, he worked hard when he needed to.

He had followed in his brother’s successful footsteps all the way through school. Now, having recently celebrated his twenty-first birthday, he was at the nearby Royal Holloway University of London campus and was heading into his second-year economics exams.

Melody, our baby girl with her mop of blonde hair, had always been a character and a strong leader. From an early age she referred to her big brothers as “my boys” and could hold her own in their company. But she was also very sensitive to people and would even give up her beloved chocolate to raise funds for the underprivileged.

It was hard to believe that she had so quickly turned into a beautiful young woman and was now, at seventeen, eagerly preparing herself for the future. She had done very well in her GCSEs at the Windsor Girls’ School and had now transferred to the sixth form of Kendrick Grammar School in Reading for her A Levels.

Our three children had always been a major focus of our lives. Carol took a break from teaching for their earlier years and delighted in being there for them. As a pastor or shepherd of people, I had long believed that my first flock was in my home.

While we did our best to help them in any way that we could, we also learned much from these three very different characters. As the years passed I reflected that the kids, on balance, had brought us up quite well.

All through the school years our home was a hub for the kids and their friends, and nothing changed when they grew up and went to “Uni”. When Wes went to LSE he fitted easily into the role of goodwill ambassador to his circle of international friends, who visited and revisited our family home outside London.

Our dining room frequently rang with laughter and a babble of languages as a mini United Nations group (indeed, some of them would later work for the UN) made the most of the hospitality, wide-ranging discussions and family atmosphere. Carol was adopted by our visitors as their English Mum. I was christened “Papa Wes”. The kids became friends with one another’s friends.

James, thanks to the proximity of his university, would regularly pitch up with a bunch of hungry mates who, as often as not, would come bearing gifts of laundry, which were in clear need of urgent attention, if not fumigation. On arrival James would smile sweetly at Carol. She would invariably melt. And so our utility room would fill and our refrigerator would empty.

Carol loved every minute of it and made everyone feel welcome. Her skills as a home economist came into full and much-appreciated use.

Melody had a great gift for including people in various events, especially her birthday parties. She was expert in negotiating, always in an upward direction, the number of people that she could invite. Usually this involved an initial appeal to me, who she clearly and not altogether inaccurately regarded as the softer touch. I then had to help her persuade her Mum, who felt that maybe the time had come to scale down on the parties.

On one occasion, with Mel convinced that even cool teenage school friends were still kids at heart, she persuaded us to hire a bouncy castle, for “around fifteen” friends. In the event I recall Carol just rolling her eyes as “around fifty” supposedly sophisticated teenagers had the time of their lives jumping up and down. Years later, pictures of this event are proudly displayed on the Facebook sites of Mel’s friends.

It was entertaining and inspirational to watch the kids develop at each stage of their lives. There was never a time when I did not feel privileged to be their Dad. Carol revelled in being a Mum to them. From early days we established a pattern of family meals together, and it had to be a big pastoral crisis to keep me away from them.

The evening meal, particularly, was accompanied by a buzz of conversation and proved a natural opportunity to develop family communication. Sometimes I felt like a traffic cop at an especially busy intersection as we directed the kids in the art of listening as well as speaking: “OK, OK, now listen a minute to what your brother/sister has to say!”

Carol cooked good food but, no doubt like countless other Mums, she had an uphill battle to get them to eat healthy food. Chips were rationed to once a week, complete with their favourite turkey burgers, which were invariably covered in lashings of ketchup. Kids!

Home was a relaxing place for all of us and the kids, despite the occasional territorial disputes, were happy just hanging out with one another and Mum and Dad and family and friends.

They were experts at delaying the moment of bedtime so that they could stay up as long as possible to talk and listen to the variety of visitors that we entertained.

For much of their time at school, Carol and I juggled second careers as their taxi drivers. I would normally take them to school and she would pick them up. Coming home from school, the kids would drop their bags, raid the fridge and unwind with Carol as they watched Neighbours, which in those days starred the emerging Kylie Minogue. Years later my stock went up with them when I organized a break during a busy speaking trip in Australia to take Carol and Mel to Ramsay Street in Melbourne, where the popular soap opera was filmed.

Carol had a great ability to keep closely in touch with what each of the kids were up to. She always made a point of telling them, “You can always talk to us about anything.” I always made the most of each opportunity for a chat even if it was just popping out for a few minutes with one of them for some local errands.

We talked naturally about everything as they progressed through each stage of childhood and youth: school, teachers, sport, friends, bullying, self-esteem, ambitions, sex, relationships, money, TV programmes, music, the importance of keeping positive attitudes and the core Bible teachings of loving the Lord “with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength” and treating others in the way you would like to be treated.

Every day we would pray a brief blessing over each of the kids and encourage them to confidently face, with faith and determination, every challenge they would encounter. As they went through school the kids increasingly came to value this Christian family lifestyle.

Family prayer together was something they had grown up with from their earliest years. So too were basic ground-rules such as no strops or sulks, and sorting out any issues as they arose. As adults they were often to say that Christianity had never been imposed upon them. It was a lifestyle that they experienced and enjoyed.

Outside the home, shopping was a favoured pursuit. Mel recalls long spells in changing rooms laughing as she and Carol tried on dresses and not quitting on their mission until they found what they were looking for. Then, having depleted their finances, they would come home and proudly open up their shopping bags to announce how much money they had saved.

Carol had an unerring ability to accurately “scan” a shop and confidently decree whether or not it contained anything of interest, without even needing to go in. I never did fathom how she did this, nor how parking spaces would open up for her just as she needed one.

At weekends, when the children were younger, we went out as much as we could for drives and walks. The great outdoors was not far away and the open spaces of Windsor Great Park made an ideal setting for picnics and exploration.

As they got older, weekends required almost military planning as the kids tried a variety of sports. Mel played netball for her school and took up gymnastics, swimming, horse-riding and cross-country running. I remember her on one particularly foggy morning suddenly appearing out of the mist and doggedly pushing to the finishing line after others had either finished or given up.

She also had piano lessons, which, along with her brothers, she was not to follow through with – just as I had, regrettably, done before them. The sound of music could be clearly heard, however, as Wes frequently shattered domestic tranquillity with his trumpet practice.

The boys tried baseball, judo, athletics, rugby and soccer. We spent many a wet and windy day on school fields. Wes well remembers my touchline instructions when he replaced an injured goalkeeper in a tense junior football...